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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608264">love in the time of quarantine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendori/pseuds/lavendori'>lavendori</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot Collection, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships To Be Added, a series of drabbles to cope with covid 19, both romantic and gen probably, check chapter index for descriptions, they're all going to be domestic in some way bc they're all about quarantine yay!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:27:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,862</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608264</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendori/pseuds/lavendori</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of drabbles about different haikyuu characters + ships living the quarantine life.</p><p><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608264/chapters/66537025">Chapter 4: ushisaku</a> + established LDR</p><blockquote>
  <p>He sighs. His thumb moves on reflex to scroll up in the chat. Ever since a month or so after Wakatoshi moved, Kiyoomi seems to have developed an automatic response to reread the highlights of their text exchange when the ache of missing him becomes exceptionally unbearable.<br/></p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou/Tsukishima Kei, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>338</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. tsukihina with irritable tsukki (est. relationship + domestic)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonniebel/gifts">bonniebel</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>welcome to justine copes with covid-19 by projecting through fiction and also a place for me to air out grievances about my own country lmao. click the chapter index or full page index for an idea of what each chapter is about. these are mostly all going to be under 3k words.</p><p>feel free to prompt me for more quarantine ideas on <a href="https://twitter.com/lavendori">twitter</a> or <a href="https://curiouscat.me/lavendori">curiouscat</a>. lord knows we need a bit of lighthearted cheer in this bleak time so what better way to bring it than with hq characters?</p><p>1. domestic tsukihina + irritable tsukki. (est. relationship)<br/>2. kagehina, long distance comfort over a different natural disaster (not pandemic lol)<br/>3. atsuhina + gay disaster atsumu<br/>4. ushisaku + established but long distance relationship in quarantine</p><p>hope y'all enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kei wakes up for the fifth morning in a row of Hinata being gone. Turning over in bed, he swings his arm over to his boyfriend’s side of the bed, hoping to start the day with his typical “accidental” smack to Hinata’s face which always, without fail, leads into a satisfying round of cuddling.</p><p>Today, however, his hand hits empty mattress.</p><p>
  <em> Ugh… not again. </em>
</p><p>Cracking an eye open, he looks over to confirm through his blurry vision that Hinata indeed has already vacated the bed. With a groan, he reaches under his pillow and pulls out his phone.</p><p>No new messages. Not from Hinata anyway. The complete and total silence in their studio apartment suggests that Hinata has gone outside. Again.</p><p>Kei knows he can’t blame the guy for wanting to leave the house. Even for an introverted homebody like him, he’s starting to have the occasional moment of restlessness as he realizes they really are just… stuck. After he’d gotten furloughed by the museum, Kei was left to stew at home, scrambling around for random tasks to do.</p><p>He thought it’d be fine at first. After all, he’s a man of routine and has always had a whole list of varying hobbies and experiments to try out when he finally has the time. The true test of his patience, he’d figured, would be staying trapped in their small apartment with Hinata for twenty-four hours, seven days a week.</p><p>Of course, he’s used to dealing with being stuck with Hinata for long periods of time, if their three years of high school is anything to go by. In the end, although it definitely doesn’t help, it’s not the excessive amount of human company that starts to drive him insane.</p><p>As it turns out, the days of their first two weeks of quarantine seem to bleed into one. The happenings of the world around them feel surreal as the continuous, nonstop progression of cases and death counts jump up every twelve hours when he refreshes the live update. The only consolation is that their country is doing as bad as America, but of course, it will take the work of every person in the nation to keep it that way.</p><p>Which brings him back to the irritation he’s starting to feel with Hinata.</p><p>Normally, he’d stay in bed a little longer as it is still only 8:00 AM, but now that today marks the fifth time Hinata has been gone before he wakes, he can’t go back to sleep.</p><p>Annoyed, Kei throws the blankets off of him and starts to get ready for what he is sure will be another unfulfilling and soul-sucking day.</p><p>He’s at the dining table drinking a cup of coffee when he hears the door to their apartment open and shut. There’s a crinkle of paper bags and shoes being kicked off, then the soft padding of small footsteps growing louder from the hallway.</p><p>“Eep!”</p><p>Hinata stops in his tracks as he emerges into the light and spots Kei lowering his cup with a sharp, expectant glare.</p><p>“You’re up early!” he observes in a falsely cheery voice.</p><p>“This is the fifth time,” Kei informs him. “Explain.”</p><p>“Aw, you were paying attention the whole time?” Hinata chuckles, rubbing the back of his head nervously.</p><p>“It’s cute how you still think you have any modicum of subtlety after all these years,” Kei says before taking another sip of his coffee.</p><p>“So you still think I’m cute,” Hinata nods. “All good then?”</p><p>Kei rolls his eyes as Hinata saunters into the room and rushes past him for the kitchen, presumably to put the groceries away. Leaning back in his chair, Kei calls out towards him, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the frozen strawberries or the fresh ground pork that miraculously appeared out of nowhere this week.”</p><p>Hinata groans as he shuts the fridge door closed. “Awww, come on, gimme a break, Tsukki! I’m not like you! I’m gonna go <em> crazy </em> if I have to stay inside full-time for another day!”</p><p>“We talked about this,” Kei sighs. “You don’t need to go to the store this often. And it’s fine to run but — well. It’s just—”</p><p>He breaks off and makes a displeased face.</p><p>Hinata sighs as well. “I know you’re worried—”</p><p>“I didn’t say that.”</p><p>“—but you’re one to talk! You won’t stop reading the news and even though you say you’re not stressed or feeling anxious about it, I think deep down you are!”</p><p>“It’s called staying informed.”</p><p>“I know Tsukki, but you’re still stressed!”</p><p>“Did you wipe the food down before you put it into the fridge?”</p><p>Hinata gives him a blank stare for a full minute, then dives back into the fridge so he can pull the new items out and properly sanitize them all. Kei sighs.</p><p>“It’s already too late,” he says. “Although more likely than not, it’s probably fine. It’s just that the possibility is always there. You have to know that. Please tell me you know that.”</p><p>“Yeah you’ve only told me like fifty times in the last two weeks,” Hinata replies. “It was in that super scientific article you made me read.”</p><p>Kei glances over at him more carefully as Hinata continues to wipe down the groceries with his back to him. He takes in the gym shorts, the shirt, damp around the shoulder blades, and the wind-tousled curls of his ginger hair. It would look adorable if Kei wasn’t currently feeling so annoyed at him.</p><p>“You went on a run too, didn’t you?” he asks.</p><p>“Yeah,” Hinata says in dejected tones. “But I was careful! I stayed far away from everyone I saw. And I wore a face mask in the store.”</p><p>He crumples the used Clorox wipe in his hand and straightens up. Grabbing the items, he places them back in the fridge, tosses the sheet, and runs over to the sink to properly wash his hands and his face.</p><p>“Don’t bother, just take a shower,” Kei sniffs. After a pause, he adds, “I’ll have an extra cup of coffee ready when you’re done.”</p><p>“Aww, thanks Tsukki,” Hinata beams, wiping his hands dry on a towel. Running over to him, he sets a hand on the back of Kei’s seat and lets his grin turn mischievous. “But I only washed up first before showering so I can do this.”</p><p>Fingers digging into the nape of Kei’s neck, Hinata swoops down and gives him a quick kiss on the mouth. He breaks away giggling and hurries away towards the bathroom before Kei can react.</p><p>“That was uncalled for!” Kei tries to shout, but it comes out as more of a croak. He straightens out his glasses as the bathroom door slams shut.</p><p>Feeling considerably less irritable, he frowns and gets up to make a second cup of coffee.</p><p>Ten minutes later, Hinata comes out of the shower, rubbing a towel over his hair.</p><p>“Thanks for the coffee,” he says as he grabs the mug sitting on the counter and takes a sip. He rummages around in the fridge before coming up to the dining table.</p><p>“Anyway, like I was saying earlier — I know you’re more stressed about the whole situation than you’re letting off, so I bought you something.”</p><p>He pulls out a clear plastic box of strawberry shortcake from behind him and sets it on the table in front of Kei.</p><p>“Oh.” Kei stares at it, his lips twitching. He can’t show signs of happiness. He can’t let himself be that obvious. Somehow it’d feel like losing.</p><p>“You know, you’re not that subtle either sometimes,” Hinata says with a small smile, procuring a fork out of nowhere. With an air of mock annoyance, he tilts his head up and adds in a perfect imitation of Kei's manner of speaking, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how quiet you’ve been or how many documentaries you’ve gone through in the first two days of quarantine alone.”</p><p>Taking a seat next to him, he looks Kei directly in the eye with a smirk. “It’s cute how you don’t think it makes any difference at all.”</p><p>Kei shoots him a deadpan stare and pops open the cake box.</p><p>“Just drink your damn coffee.”</p><p>Hinata takes a sip as Kei digs in. The first slice of a cake’s tip is always the best.</p><p>“You don’t have to stay like this, you know,” Hinata says, gazing thoughtfully at Kei.</p><p>“What do you mean?” he asks.</p><p>“Grumpy, I mean." He takes another sip. “I dunno. I thought maybe if I went on runs more often, it’d give you space, since we’re stuck here together anyway and I know that must drive you nuts. You seemed like you really needed it the first week.”</p><p>Kei turns away. “It’s not your constant presence that bothers me.”</p><p>Hinata frowns. “Really? What is it then?”</p><p>A million things run through Kei’s mind. The delay of the Olympics being debated (there should be no question about it really), the shortages of medical supplies around the world, political leaders in other countries not learning from the obvious patterns, the economy crashing all around them, his mother at home alone while her sons are unable to visit her… the days, time, everything bleeds together, stockpiling a mountain of horrors that only seem to grow higher and higher. All things considered, his desire for more solitude drops to the bottom of the list.</p><p>Reaching out, he scoots Hinata’s chair closer and wraps an arm around his torso, planting his nose at the nape of his neck.</p><p>“At least let me start the mornings with you,” he mutters into Hinata’s skin.</p><p>Hinata twists around and kisses him slow. The taste of coffee is still on his lips.</p><p>“I’ll do anything to make this easier for us,” Hinata says softly. “Just tell me how.”</p><p>“You’re already doing it,” Kei tells him before lifting his chin for another kiss. The truth is, Kei may be a man of routine, but despite it all, despite how erratic and energetic and frustratingly unpredictable Hinata can be, Kei knows that in the end, there’s no one else he would rather be stuck at home with.</p><p>“I <em> knew </em> you were stressed,” Hinata says when he pulls away. “Don’t be stressed. Okay?”</p><p>Kei rolls his eyes. It’s amazing how simple Hinata can be. In a way though, he’s learned that that in itself is his own form of brilliance too.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Now eat up!” Hinata chirps brightly as he turns back around in his seat for his coffee.</p><p>Kei doesn’t need to be told twice. His next bite of strawberry shortcake tastes much sweeter than the last.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. kagehina + long distance comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this isn't a quarantine fic but i had written this a month ago when shelter in place was just announced. i had some big sad feels about how the world is going to shit and how i wanted nothing more than to be with my loved ones who are all on different sides of the world. so of course i channeled it into a short kagehina drabble. since the idea of kghn dealing with news of a pandemic was too soon and raw for me to write, i picked a different natural disaster and threw them into a conversation over it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>kagehina, long distance comfort over a different natural disaster (not pandemic lol)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s eleven in the morning on a Sunday in Rio when Shouyou wakes up to the news. Tokyo, earthquake, 5.0 magnitude, Chiba Prefecture impacted. His heart jumps to his throat at his phone’s notification and he quickly scrolls through all social media accounts, looking for one name and one name only.</p><p><em>Stupid</em>, he realizes after a few posts down on Twitter. H<em>e never uses these apps anyway.</em></p><p>Pulling up his contacts, he swipes to his speed dial page and taps on Kageyama Tobio.</p><p>
  <em>C’mon… c’mon, pick up, dummy!</em>
</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>A wave of relief washes over Shouyou. Kageyama sounds muffled and sleepy but it’s his voice and it’s real.</p><p>“Oh thank god you answered. Is everything alright?”</p><p>Kageyama gives a small yawn. “Yeah."</p><p>"You aren't...? Wasn't there a—an earth—"</p><p>"I’m actually in Sendai this weekend.”</p><p>“You’re in—? Oh!”</p><p>“But everyone we know is safe,” Kageyama adds. “Minor building damage and a few injuries but no deaths.”</p><p>Hinata lets out a loud sigh. “Thank god. I just woke up and saw the news and — I dunno I—”</p><p>“Panicked,” Kageyama finishes for him. “I know.”</p><p>Silence falls. Shouyou turns over in his bed, feeling strangely awkward as static continues to buzz between them. It’s been a while since he’s heard Kageyama’s voice, let alone <em>talked</em> to him. After his minor freak out, the sudden calm that follows unnerves him.</p><p>Clearing his throat, Shouyou tries to fill in the gap.</p><p>“Did — did I wake you?” he asks.</p><p>“A little late to be worried about that,” Kageyama replies. Shouyou can hear his smile. “Dumbass.”</p><p>“Well sorry for being concerned!” Shouyou gripes back. This feels normal, more familiar. It’s all he can do to keep it up so he can push past the initial awkwardness. “I guess I won’t bother next time!”</p><p>“You bother me all the time. I’m used to it.”</p><p>Shouyou sticks his tongue out, even though Kageyama can’t see it. </p><p>“Good.”</p><p>Silence again. A rustling sound that tells Shouyou that Kageyama has shifted his phone to his other ear. Silence again.</p><p>Shouyou sighs. “It’s hard not being over there, you know. Even though it wasn’t a bad earthquake. Just knowing it could’ve been, and that I'd have been kilometers away from all of you…”</p><p>He trails off, lips trembling too much to voice the next words out loud. <em>Without being able to say goodbye...</em></p><p>Kageyama lets out a sigh in return. “I know.”</p><p>This causes Shouyou to perk up. “You do?”</p><p>“Mm,” he grunts. “You couldn’t live with yourself if you were the only one absent during a disaster, right?”</p><p>Shouyou’s heart swells. Out in a foreign country, it’s been a while since he’s talked to anyone who simply understands him so well and so fast. A quiet calm washes over him, teasing the corner of his lips into a small smile.</p><p>“That’s right. <em>I</em><em>’m</em> the disaster. I should be the only one bringing it!” he proclaims. “And don’t you forget it!”</p><p>Kageyama snorts on the other line, but Shouyou can hear the affection in his voice when he replies.</p><p>"Don't worry. I wouldn't. And I never will."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. atsuhina feat. gay disaster atsumu + cuddling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>atsuhina where atsumu has nowhere to stay for quarantine (because he doesn’t wanna infect Granny) so he stays with shouyou.</p><p>featuring: gay disaster atsumu + cuddling at the end</p><blockquote>
  <p>By the second week, however, the government announces that quarantine will be extended. Now Atsumu <i>really</i> isn’t sure how much longer he can sleep on a tiny couch. Or how much longer he can hold up living in Shouyou’s presence for nearly twenty four hours everyday without intrusive thoughts like <i>I wonder how he’d react if I ran my hand through his hair</i> cropping up in his mind.</p>
  <p>Perhaps he might be going crazy.<br/></p>
</blockquote>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is not really beta’d sorry</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It seemed like a good idea at the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s what you say about everything,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Samu’s voice echoes in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Atsumu retorts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am </span>
  </em>
  <span>not</span>
  <em>
    <span> havin’ this fake conversation with ya in my head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>… But it really did seem like a good idea at the time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When news of the pandemic hit, Atsumu had been skeptical. The world has seen deadlier illnesses in his lifetime after all. Everyone had started wearing face masks out in public. Everything seemed to be under control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Italy got hit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>. By that point, the rest of their upcoming tournaments got cancelled, the gyms closed down, every one of them had been sent back home — all in the blink of an eye. They’d been staying at a hotel in Kyoto for an away game that was no longer happening and were told to transition immediately into quarantine the moment the bus dropped them back off at home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Omi-kun took the time to explain everything they needed to know about the virus to them via webcam, having elected to stay home and sit this game out. Probably the first time Atsumu paid full attention to anything he was saying. Namely, that people in their exact age range are the biggest culprits of the spread, owing to the fact that most of them don’t show symptoms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the moment he and Samu called each other at the exact same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My game just got cancelled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I heard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I can’t go </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Granny’s—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At risk, yeah. Just calling to make sure you knew. Everyone is OK so far. I just left to go stay with Suna.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, can I join?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His apartment’s too small for 3 people. See if you can quarantine with someone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Fine! Wait — what about your shop?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably open online orders and deliveries. The important thing is that Granny stays home without us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just ask a teammate or somethin’. Bye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he hung up. Bastard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Shouyou had asked upon seeing Atsumu’s expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothin’. Samu’s just a jerk.” And then inspiration hit. “Say, Shouyou. You live alone right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, my family is up in Sendai still, so yeah, I’ve been living alone. Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s heart jumped in his chest. He likes Shouyou, they get along, and he’d probably be a decent roommate. The opportunity seemed perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still live at home but my Granny’s in the at-risk age group. If Omi-kun’s right, I gotta stay away from her. Any chance I could stay with you instead?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that’s how Atsumu finds himself now in Shouyou’s apartment, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not much,” Shouyou says, sounding slightly ashamed. “But there’s a couch and a kitchen! We should be able to make do for… however long this’ll take.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door closes behind them as they remove their face masks. After tossing them into a wastebasket by the door, they take their shoes off and walk up the cramped stairway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine. Not like I have much of a choice.” Bokuto lives with Akaashi in an apartment that definitely can’t fit a third person. Everyone else on the team either has family or are way less close to him than Shouyou is. “I’m just thankful you let me stay. I’ll do your groceries the whole time I’m here to make up for it. No arguments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal!” Shouyou beams. “Quarantining by yourself sounds so lonely anyway. Together, we can make this fun!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu smiles as Shouyou runs up the remaining steps ahead of him, singing some made-up song about quarantine and friendship. When he emerges into the small living room, Atsumu drops his duffel bag down by the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly,” he says as he glances around. “It’s not even that bad. You should’ve seen the very first place Kita had right out of uni. He kept it clean of course but… let’s just say it was a very humble studio.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow really?” Shouyou asks as he switches the lights on. “Kita-san sounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>so cool!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is, he is,” Atsumu agrees. And then he gets a better look at the couch. “Um.. Shouyou. I hate to be that person but — that couch is definitely Shouyou-sized.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Shouyou frowns as he looks back and forth from Atsumu to his couch. “Honestly, I didn’t think of that. Sorry, that’s my bad. If you want, you can take the bed and I’ll take the couch. I don’t mind!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, no, no, no, you're the host! I can’t let you do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then what do you suggest?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unbidden, the phrase </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let’s just both take the bed </span>
  </em>
  <span>flashes through his mind before he can even think of anything else. Stunned by his own slip, Atsumu mentally berates himself as he rushes to correct his own thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I — uh — nope! Nope,” he shakes his head. “I — You know what? It’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh, take the couch, yeah. Don’t worry about me — heh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou raises an eyebrow as Atsumu starts to busy himself with unpacking some of the contents of his duffel bag. Not that he has anything to really unpack right now. (He had spoken to his mom on the phone about the living arrangement and she had agreed to put together a box of clothes and necessities for him to leave outside their front door so he can come pick it up sometime this week. But for now… not much to unpack.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, okay. If you’re sure…” Slinging his own duffel bag over his shoulder, he starts to make his way through the hallway towards his bedroom. “The offer still stands if you change your mind!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu breathes a sigh of relief once Shouyou is out of earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It seemed like a good idea at the time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>What had he gotten himself into?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sheltering in place all day, everyday, for weeks on end is torture. It’s only been one week so far, but Atsumu already can’t imagine having any more. There are so many things pent up in him as a result of being cooped up in a tiny apartment with Shouyou: his energy levels, his sanity, his boredom, and — he soon realizes after every time he runs into Shouyou shirtless coming out of the shower — other things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They go on separate runs occasionally and it helps, but the situation surrounding them still hasn’t changed. Atsumu still sleeps curled up on a couch too small for him, he still has way too much energy that a simple run can’t fully satisfy, and Shouyou is still somehow looking cuter and cuter as they stay stuck with each other under the same roof everyday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s torture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Atsumu-san?” Shouyou says over breakfast one day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not looking so good. Are you sleeping okay? Are you sure you don’t want to take the bed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The what? Oh. Yeah. I mean, no. No… nothin’ to worry about. it’s just—” he gestures vaguely. “Stress from the whole virus situation. No need to get bed— I mean, trade beds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou frowns. “I mean… if you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> sure… I don’t mind, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure,” he replies. He grins at him across the small table to help prove just how sure he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truth be told, Atsumu does wake up cramped and aching every morning, but he’s gotten kinda used to it now. Sorta. Well, not really. Either way, he can’t complain. In the end, all of this is for Granny. He’s doing it to spare Granny. If she kicked the bucket and it was their fault, he and Samu could never live with themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not to say that the whole week has been bad. To entertain themselves, he and Shouyou have watched movies, brewed dalgona coffee (and failed spectacularly the first time), stared out the window and made a game of who could spot the most birds in one sitting, tried a few intense workout videos, tagged each other in silly Instagram memes while sitting in the same room, and played animal crossing. As Shouyou had said the first day, sheltering in place completely alone would’ve sucked much worse than staying stuck together. If neither of them have shown symptoms yet, perhaps it would soon be safe for Atsumu to go see his family at least. In time, he’s sure he’ll be able to sleep in a real long bed when everything finally blows over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the second week, however, the government announces that quarantine will be extended. Now Atsumu </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t sure how much longer he can sleep on a tiny couch. Or how much longer he can hold up living in Shouyou’s presence for nearly twenty four hours everyday without intrusive thoughts like </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder how he’d react if I ran my hand through his hair</span>
  </em>
  <span> cropping up in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps he might be going crazy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t look so good,” Shouyou says again a few nights later. He’d just beaten Atsumu at Mario Kart and instead of his usual roar of frustration, Atsumu merely sat back on the couch and sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” Atsumu retorts. “Well how do you know it’s not just </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one not feelin’ so good!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsumu-san… you lost five out of five times just now. You never lose that much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s chest swells upon hearing this. “Aw, thank you for defending my honor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, you have bags under your eyes. You usually hate having bags under your eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well it’s not like anyone’s gonna see me in the next month except you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…” Shouyou tilts his head and squints as he studies Atsumu’s face carefully. “I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu scowls and looks away. For annoying reasons he doesn’t want to explore, his cheeks heat up under Shouyou’s scrutiny. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Shouyou grins. “You should sleep early. You look like you need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu groans and tosses the controller back into its basket by the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After brushing his teeth and changing into pajamas, he unfolds his usual blankets and tries to get comfortable. Now that it’s been two weeks of staying on this couch, Atsumu swears there’s a sweet spot where his hip slots right into the middle fold of the cushions. Then he can tuck his knees in and fit snugly between the armrests. There’s always a silver lining if you look for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears Shouyou call out </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Goodnight!’</span>
  </em>
  <span> from down the hall followed by the faint slam of his bedroom door. This is always the hard part: falling asleep in the quiet while never fully, truly comfortable. Every time he tries to stretch his legs, his heels push against the armrest. Contained like a box, Atsumu quite literally has nowhere to turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s finally about to drift off into sleep when a sudden shout jerks him awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-HA! I knew it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu lets out a high pitched scream and tumbles off the couch, landing in a pile with his sheets wrapped around him. Untangling himself from the blankets, he twists around and stares up at the perpetrator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Towering over him in the dark, a triumphant smile visible by the sliver of moonlight cast over him, is none other than Hinata Shouyou, in all his 173-centimeter glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell, Shouyou?!” Atsumu yelps, his voice cracking still from the shock. “What’s your problem?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My problem? What’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours?</span>
  </em>
  <span> You have totally been uncomfortable this whole time!” Shouyou pouts, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Why didn’t you say so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frowning, Atsumu looks away and mutters, “‘S not a big deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> is! I’m a terrible host if my guest is uncomfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was about to fall asleep before you interrupted! Everything was fine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No it wasn’t,” Shouyou insists, kneeling down so he can glare at Atsumu from a closer angle. “I was watching you. You were twisting and squirming. Like a sad cut-up worm in a lot of pain!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow — First of all, that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> creepy. Second of all, everyone squirms in their sleep a little. And third of all, I really could’ve done without that horrifying image, thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou leans in and grabs Atsumu by the shoulders, his wide eyes brazen with a threatening glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t let you keep going like this,” he says very seriously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu stares back for a long moment before breaking away from Shouyou’s gaze with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>tch!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well what do you suggest then?” he asks. “We can’t share the bed. I've seen your bed. We both definitely would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fit in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But to his surprise, Shouyou beams at him. “I've got a better idea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In ten minutes time, what looks to be every single blanket and pillow Shouyou can possibly own in his apartment has been dragged out and tossed into a gigantic pile on the living room floor. Thinking back to all the fun nights he and Samu had that started out with this exact scenario, a giddy excitement ignites in his chest at the sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this going where I think it’s going?” he asks with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou flashes him a smug smirk. “You bet. Help me move the dining chairs over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dining chairs?” Atsumu raises his eyebrows with interest as Shouyou hurries over to grab one. “I’ve never made a pillow fort with those.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Seriously?” Shouyou waddles back and places the first chair by the couch. “Natsu gave me the idea once and our forts have never been the same since!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe you,” Atsumu chuckles as he starts helping Shouyou move everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Shouyou’s direction, they arrange the four chairs in a wide circle with their backs facing the center. Next, they drape a large, thin sheet over it, creating a canopy over the center of the living room. Ducking underneath the tent, Shouyou spreads the rest of the remaining blankets and pillows out until the entire floor is cushioned with comforters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice isn’t it?” Shouyou asks when Atsumu slips under the fort to join him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is really nice and all, but are you planning to do this every single night?” Atsumu points out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm… we’ll play it by ear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou lies back against the pillows and pulls a blanket over himself, his fluff of orange hair sticking out from underneath. It’s stupidly adorable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well? Aren’t you gonna sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right.” Atsumu crawls over and lies down next to him, a hair’s distance apart but not touching — just in case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Atsumu?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you miss your family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu thinks about it for a moment. “Not terribly. It hasn’t been that long since I saw them. I just hope they’re doing okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? Do you miss yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little,” Shouyou admits. He pauses for a moment. “It’s funny, because I didn’t really miss them before. But now that we’re in quarantine, I suddenly miss them, even though the amount I’m seeing them hasn’t changed, or wouldn’t even have changed if we weren’t in quarantine now. Weird, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh. That’s interesting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou sighs. “Maybe it’s just having the choice to see them taken away that makes me miss them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… maybe.” Atsumu considers this. He’s also been deprived of the option to see his family but it hasn’t hit him quite so hard yet. More than anything, he wants to make sure Granny is safe. A gnawing worry starts to chew at his insides at the thought. The pandemic is so unprecedented, the possibilities for both good and bad shit to happen are endless. Even if Granny stays home, one mistake could tip her over to the wrong side. People like her are living constantly on the brink of life and death, and with such an abstract, intangible thing as a disease, it’s hard to feel the urgency as a physical emergency.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s what makes it all so scary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think…”. Atsumu adds, his heart feeling heavy all of a sudden. “It’s also the unknown. Who the hell knows what’ll happen tomorrow, or the next week? Or even the next month? Like — who’s to say when we’ll be able to see our loved ones again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou sighs again. “Yeah… that’s true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sheets rustle as he shifts around to face Atsumu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Atsumu?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu turns towards him. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Out of all the ways I could’ve been stuck in quarantine, I’m glad I could be stuck with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu’s chest swells. Lifting his arm, he drapes it tentatively over Shouyou’s shoulders. To his pleasant surprise, Shouyou scoots closer and tucks himself into the crook of Atsumu’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Atsumu mutters into Shouyou’s hair. “‘Cause I feel the exact same way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou lifts his head and plants a small kiss on Atsumu’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Shouyou says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I've been thinking about doing that since you first started staying over. Mmm, actually maybe even before that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—” Atsumu chokes. “That’s not fair, I was too! How can you just—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too bad,” Shouyou yawns as Atsumu continues to sputter. “I’m tired, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? You— Are you serious right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhmm,” he murmurs. “Dead serious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t just do that and go straight to sleep! Oi! Answer me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh,” Shouyou presses a hand against his chest and rubs soothing circles across his shoulders. “Talk tomorrow. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu pouts but tightens his grip around Shouyou in a weak form of protest. After a whole week of terrible sleep, he has to admit he’s exhausted too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. You’re lucky I’m so tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou lets out a small laugh. Snuggling in, he wraps his arms around Atsumu’s torso and asks, “Is this comfortable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsumu turns onto his back, pulling Shouyou along with him. He slides a hand up Shouyou’s spine and squeezes his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a smile, he replies, “I've got no complaints here.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. ushisaku + long distance quarantining</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sakusa and Ushijima cope with having to quarantine in separate countries (est. relationship).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>inspired by something <a href="https://twitter.com/jaela">jei</a> said: "Sakusa is that lovestruck dummy who rereads over their text convos all the time even though to anyone else they would look like the driest and most boring convos ever LMAO" - thank you ushisaku server for enabling me</p><p>IT'S VERY SAPPY PROCEED WITH CAUTION</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kiyoomi has gotten into the habit of checking Poland’s news right after Japan’s. Unfortunately, the headline he finds after he finishes his lunch does not bode well.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The total number of coronavirus cases have exceeded 100,000 in Poland.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs. It hasn’t been much better in Japan, but the statistics in their country continue to worry him. The majority of citizens of Japan eventually jumped on board with proper virus protection measures. He isn’t sure if that’s been the same in Poland.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling his phone out, Kiyoomi clicks on the only person in his speed dial list and sends Wakatoshi a text.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I've been keeping up with the news where you are. Hope you’re staying safe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi’s stomach sinks as the text goes through. If Poland announces a tightening of lockdown, then that probably means…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzes in his hands. Glancing at the time, he does a quick calculation in his head: 06:33 AM in Poland. Wakatoshi is probably about to go on his daily run. He imagines the other man typing up a brief reply before pocketing his device and leaving the house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am safe, but the situation is not looking too good. My flight to Japan was cancelled again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At this rate, I won’t be able to come home for Christmas.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Any flicker of hope he had carried in his chest suddenly deflates. It’s as he expected. Ever since the shutdown measures began back in February, all his upcoming matches had been delayed or cancelled until further notice. Wakatoshi couldn’t come back for his birthday month like they’d planned. Everything, everyone, everywhere got derailed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, he’d held onto a tiny piece of foolish optimism that even though he and Wakatoshi would have to spend an extended interval of time being long distance, that they’d at least see each other again at the Olympics. Until, of course, that eventually got cancelled too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, several months out from the start of the pandemic, he hasn’t been able to see his boyfriend in person for an entire year. Although his personal habits of mask wearing and social distancing haven’t changed one bit from pre-pandemic, his entire being aches to hop on a germ-ridden plane to visit Wakatoshi. And although he would never actually risk it, Kiyoomi still feels that dull pang in his chest from being apart from him for so long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs. His thumb moves on reflex to scroll up in the chat. Ever since a month or so after Wakatoshi moved, Kiyoomi seems to have developed an automatic response to reread the highlights of their text exchange when the ache of missing him becomes exceptionally unbearable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>
      <em>March 20</em>
    </b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kiyoomi. Happy birthday. I’m sorry again that my flight to Japan was cancelled. It is as you always say: even when we do our best to be prepared, the unpredictable can still happen. Although I will not be able to see you in person this month, I hope that later on in the year, we’ll be able to visit each other soon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wakatoshi. Thank you, but don’t apologize. It couldn’t be helped. Viruses come and go; always have, always will. It just so happens that we were unfortunate enough to experience a pandemic in our lifetime. People have been saying it isn’t that severe compared to previous strains but I find it incredibly worrisome. The numbers and their exponential trajectory contradict the lack of concern over how mild the symptoms are.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That being said, I, too, hope that this will pass in another few months. I really was looking forward to visiting Europe for the first time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>( . </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>. )</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can I call you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The sudden outbreak of a new virus has given me much to think about.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I want to wish you a happy birthday on FaceTime.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>
      <em>May 4</em>
    </b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wakatoshi. It pains me to say this but I cannot see a way the Olympics will happen this year. Case counts continue to rise. For the well-being of the entire world, it’s best if we don’t go through with it. I hope they finalize the decision soon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I have been thinking the same. It is far too risky, even though I know we were both looking forward to it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know. I was really looking forward to playing with you again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It will happen soon, in time. It would have been nice to play together this year. Let’s hope we can do it next year.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Until then, keep your receives as sharp as ever.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>
      <em>July 15</em>
    </b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The world has been very bleak lately. One of my teammates lost his uncle to the virus. America, where my Otou-san is, has been breaking case records. Fortunately, he is still healthy and safe. I hope you are doing well.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve been keeping track of the news cycle as well. Apparently, people over there have been protesting the wearing of masks. I can’t even imagine such a thing. I hope your Otou-san continues to stay safe. It sounds like there are many people around him who are irresponsible.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>On my end, I am doing well. In all honesty, my lifestyle has not changed that much other than the fact that our season has been cancelled. They are speaking about hosting a live stream of us playing in a crowd-less stadium. Bokuto is displeased with this, of course, until Meian pointed out that he can read the audience’s comments afterwards, which offers a different kind of intimacy with his fans. Still, circumstances are not ideal for anyone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I do not see a difference between playing in an empty stadium or a full one, but I respect Bokuto-kun’s opinion. I am unsure if we will be able to do the same any time soon, but rest assured I will watch your game if you do end up playing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you. I’ll do my best.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>
      <em>August 13</em>
    </b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Happy birthday Wakatoshi. I found a cake recipe last week, but since I can’t bake it for you to physically eat, I figured this would be the next best thing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>[image]</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thank you. I really like the candle. It is my favorite shade of blue. What did you use for the eagle head?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a mochi ball with a mango slice for a beak and two chocolate chips as its eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I almost used sesame seeds but I thought these matched your eye color better. It’ll also taste sweeter this way.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That makes me chuckle. I will treasure this photo.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope you enjoy eating your hard work on my behalf.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m glad. And I will.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kiyoomi.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wakatoshi?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s too bad you couldn’t be here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know. You too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can I call you later?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I look forward to it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me too. Stay safe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>
      <em>September 21</em>
    </b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I have pushed my flight to December, but given the trajectory of these past few months, I am not optimistic that I will be able to come home. Still, for now, all we can do is hope for the best.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I think about visiting all the time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve never been to Europe before.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Someday you will. You should have joined an international league yourself, but I understand why you stayed. Every week, I find more things that remind me of you. There is a bookstore for instance that I passed yesterday that I think you would like. When you do find your way here, I will take you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I like the sound of that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I know. I don’t regret not joining, but it doesn’t make me miss you any less.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You miss me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Terribly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That is the first time you have said so.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>( . </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>. )</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kiyoomi.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I miss you too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Although they never say the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I love you,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kiyoomi knows the sentiment is woven into all the little ways they show each other they care. Despite the distance, rereading these convos causes warmth to bubble up in his belly. As painful as it is to be apart for so long, there’s a sense of comfort and reassurance in knowing that the words they’ve exchanged still exist and are a living reminder of the feelings between them. Even as they continue to live in a global pandemic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There just isn’t anything anyone can do but wait for it to be over, and hope that everyone they know and care about is lucky enough to stay healthy and alive.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi wraps himself in multiple layers, a scarf, and two face masks before going out for groceries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s nearing the end of October but the air is already starting to grow cold. Talks of a possible “twindemic” (a stupid word, really) during covid and the flu season have arisen and Kiyoomi is determined to avoid both diseases at all costs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Come to think of it, he wonders how cold it’s gotten in Poland. Although his phone tells him it’s a high of 18° C there this week, Kiyoomi is well aware that how it actually feels in person can be an entirely different matter completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like clockwork, his thumb performs its well-trained move of swiping down for Wakatoshi’s name.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How’s the weather on your end? Has it gotten cold yet?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi glances at the time automatically after sending the text. It is 9 AM on a Saturday in Osaka and 2 AM in Poland. He’ll have to wait longer for a response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Checking twice to make sure he is all bundled up and ready to brave the outside world, he grabs his reusable grocery bags and heads out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s truly a hassle every time he needs to leave the apartment. Even though he compiles his errands and limits his trips to once every two weeks, Kiyoomi feels like he can never get used to it. He brings two bottles of hand sanitizer everywhere he goes and wipes every single millimeter of himself, his attire, and his belongings afterwards when he returns home. Every square bit. Every single time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His chest tightens as the thoughts pass through his head. This whole ordeal would be so much more enjoyable if Wakatoshi had been able to quarantine with him. He could endure the monotony and labor of undergoing the whole protection and purification process with more ease knowing Wakatoshi was dealing with the burdens right beside him too, or at least taking turns to lighten the load.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi has never been one to dwell upon fruitless wishes, but this time, just this once — after months and months of pandemic life — he allows himself to imagine a reality where Wakatoshi stayed. He’d wake up next to him and they’d have breakfast together on lazy sunday mornings, try new recipes on the weekends and go on runs as the sun rises. They could tag team on groceries and make more economic meal plans. Best of all, they wouldn’t have to rely on LINE chats and FaceTime for communication in the midst of a global pandemic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, this is the reality he has. The one where Wakatoshi can’t come home for Christmas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he reaches the grocery store, Kiyoomi goes through the standard ritual of hand sanitizing and basket wipe-down before stepping inside the enclosed space. Having arrived early, the store is thankfully far from crowded. Everything is according to plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scans the aisles, running through the long list of items and meal plans in his head: Curry, pasta, natto, niku, veggies, bay leaf, eggs, milk. Dried goods first, produce last. He turns straight into the bottled sauce section.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shelf of dried curry blocks is at the end of the aisle. Kiyoomi walks towards it with purpose and locates the brand he likes. In the middle of grabbing the box, his eyes fall upon a row of hayashi roux blocks right next to it and — an idea hits him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wakatoshi can’t come home, but Kiyoomi can bring a bit of home to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With new determination burning in his stomach, he pulls three boxes of hayashi roux off the shelf and does the rest of his grocery shopping with his eyes peeled for all of Wakatoshi’s favorite snacks.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Wakatoshi-kun</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(10:12 AM)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>[image]</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Would you like a package of these?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was rhetorical. I’ll be sending some goods by Christmas.</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Shipping has been a problem lately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thanks to the virus, postal services have become shit. Japan in particular has disabled the majority of shipping options available. A box of up to only 60 cm in size costs ¥2750 and if Kiyoomi can’t fit all the food he’s sending in that, the next tier is ¥4650 and continues to nearly double in price with each successive one after that. It’s criminal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs and puts down his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After coming home from the store, he had put his groceries away and texted Wakatoshi a picture of the acquired goods before browsing the options and specs for shipping to Poland at this time. Hopefully, he will only have to do this just once or twice for this year. If they have to live another year under this pandemic, well, then so help him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It isn’t until after he eats his lunch when Wakatoshi responds. Giddy about seeing his phone light up, Kiyoomi quickly grabs it and swipes up to read.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Wakatoshi-kun</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello. The weather has been decent so far, but the forecast predicts some light rain next week.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As for the snacks— Thank you for thinking of me, but I believe shipping costs have become unnaturally high. Perhaps it will be better not to risk it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It isn’t too bad. I want to send you a bit of home.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I appreciate that. Still, I do not believe it is worth it. I wouldn't want you to spend so much on something so silly. It would never cost that much in normal times.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not something silly if you enjoy it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I would enjoy it. But don’t worry too much. In the end, it is just food.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>( . </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>. )</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi sets his phone aside, feeling suddenly deflated. He’s not sure why; Wakatoshi was being perfectly reasonable after all, nor did he sound mad or upset. Nevertheless, a hollow emptiness seeps in and settles uncomfortably in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On instinct, he picks up his phone again, but there’s no response. Perhaps he’s already on his morning run, Kiyoomi tries to reassure himself. Wakatoshi is a busy man. Setting his phone aside, he tries to stop worrying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Throughout the rest of the day, the silence between them hangs over Kiyoomi like a cloud. It’s not like Wakatoshi to ignore him, so he’s probably not doing it on purpose. By some wild compulsion, Kiyoomi keeps checking his phone anyway and rereading the conversation. Kiyoomi’s last word had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>— which admittedly doesn’t leave room for a response. He should have said something more but he doesn’t know what. It’s been hours later, and he still can’t think of what else he could say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It occurs to him, much more belatedly than it should have while he’s in the shower, that the whole exchange from the afternoon has greatly bothered him. He wanted to send snacks to Wakatoshi because it would make him happy. But Wakatoshi had said no, it’s too much trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s right though,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kiyoomi tells himself. It isn’t the most practical thing to do during a pandemic and Wakatoshi was being considerate in not wanting him to waste money on it. So why is Kiyoomi so bothered by it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he’s brushed his teeth and dried his hair, he dons his pajamas and slips into bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sleep doesn’t come. He can’t find rest or peace of mind when there suddenly feels like a barrier has been erected between them. Kiyoomi sighs. This would all be so much easier if they were quarantining together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning onto his side, he reaches for his phone and stares at the same message chain again. If he wants the walls to come down, he’s going to have to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to chip away at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tapping the text entry box, Kiyoomi types and retypes and retypes his message again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Are you sure you don’t want</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Can I</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Will you just let me</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Don’t think about the costs, think about</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Would it still not be worth it if I</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I not make you happy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last six words blink back at him from the screen. Kiyoomi isn’t sure where they came from. It was as though his fingers had a mind of their own when he typed them out, and yet, he knows deep inside that they are the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s afraid, he realizes. Of what, he doesn’t know, but as he lies awake in the dark staring at the open text box on his phone, the same cold feeling of dread when a volleyball is millimeters away from hitting the floor on the other side of the net threatens to choke him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thumb hovers over the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Send</span>
  </em>
  <span> button. Although those six words are so simple and short, they make Kiyoomi feel so incredibly vulnerable and exposed. Every fiber of his being protests against sending it but instinct — a calm but more powerful instinct — pushes him forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shutting his eyes, he hits </span>
  <em>
    <span>Send</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few seconds later, his phone buzzes with a response. Heart pounding fast, he opens his eyes and reads it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course you make me happy. Have I done something to make you believe otherwise?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Relief washes over Kiyoomi, then embarrassment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s tempted to say. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You said no to my offer.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It’s embarrassing to think that something as stupid as Wakatoshi telling him to not send a package could cause him to spiral like this. But… Wakatoshi likes him. He chose to date Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi can tell him the truth. He can bare a bit more of his soul.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I just wanted to make sure.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>( . </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>. )</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Earlier, what you said— I know you are right about the shipping fees but… I think I underestimated how much it would mean to me to send something to you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s stupid. It’s just</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I guess it’s just hard being away from you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>( . </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>. </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>. )</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi jumps as his phone buzzes with an increasing intensity in his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Wakatoshi-kun would like to FaceTime…</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sitting up in bed, he props his pillow up against the headboard and leans back before he picks up the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone lights up with the brightness of day as Wakatoshi’s face fills the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Kiyoomi says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Wakatoshi replies. “I hope this is a good time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s fine. I couldn't sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wakatoshi nods in understanding. Just seeing his face, his quiet and patient expression, calms Kiyoomi in a way words just can’t express.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounded like you might have more thoughts than can be put into text,” Wakatoshi explains. “So I called.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi smiles. Wakatoshi may not be the most expressive person but he knows Kiyoomi well. This is familiar. This is them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems I have made you question my happiness with regards to you,” he continues. “You said it would mean a lot to you to send me a gift. Could you explain more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah…” Kiyoomi sinks lower into his mattress. He’s tempted to hide his face under his blanket but resists the urge. “It’s just—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks away, pursing his lips. “I know it’s still early, but I figured if you couldn’t come home during Christmas, I’d bring a bit of home to you. It doesn’t matter the costs, I just wanted to…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi trails off. Hearing himself speak the words makes him feel even more ridiculous about the whole thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God,” he drags his palm down over his face. “It sounds even worse out loud. Sorry, it’s really not that big of a deal. I just wanted to send something that would ease the disappointment of not being able to come back to Japan for another— who knows how long. So when you said it was too much trouble— even though I agree— it kind of… felt like a rejection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see,” Wakatoshi acknowledges with a nod. “I sincerely apologize. In no way did I mean to ever reject you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This brightens Kiyoomi’s mood up just as much as it makes him feel even sillier. He waves it away. “Like I said. It’s silly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi looks up. Something in his chest begins to untangle. “But—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no need to justify it,” Wakatoshi affirms. “If that is how you felt then that is how you felt. I am sorry for any doubts I may have caused.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi hugs his knees to himself. “You mean that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” he reassures. “I have accepted the circumstance for what it is but you’re right: I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed. So if you truly would like to send a package, I will not stop you, but will certainly enjoy it. I may even send you one, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kiyoomi chuckles and holds his phone close, the heavy weight from his chest lifted. “Okay. Sure. I look forward to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wakatoshi smiles. “Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how has your week been?” Kiyoomi asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The same as always,” he replies, before launching into a few interesting stories about random happenings from his life in Poland from the past few days. Kiyoomi settles into his mattress, allowing the deep, low rumble of Wakatoshi’s voice to lull him to sleep. Before he nods off, Wakatoshi bids him goodnight and promises to call him later on in the week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is the reality he has. Although the Olympics are delayed and their lives put on hold, their conversations continue to confirm what Kiyoomi already knows. Despite the distance and the bleak outlook of the world, he’s grateful that Wakatoshi will always remain a steady constant presence in his life.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i will take any and every opportunity to make jabs at the US. and shipping costs. f*ck this reality. go vote.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come say hello or scream about hq with me on <a href="https://twitter.com/lavendori">twitter</a> and/or <a href="https://lavendori.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>!</p><p>again, feel free to prompt me for more quarantine ideas on <a href="https://twitter.com/lavendori">twitter</a> or <a href="https://curiouscat.me/lavendori">curiouscat</a>. lord knows we need a bit of lighthearted cheer in this bleak time so what better way to bring it than with hq characters?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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